Charlotte was the one in the stands at every game. The one who took me to my first horror movie and checked on me that night, just in case. She took me school shopping with Tru, fed me, loved me—even when I wasn’t speaking to her son.
She gasped softly, squeezing me tighter. “Oh, my gosh,” she said, pulling back to look at me. My eyes were wet. So werehers. “You can call me anything you want. Doesn’t change the fact that you’re my son. Always.”
I glanced at Tru, another set of wet eyes. Dad laughed, surprising me. Not the reaction I was expecting. Hell, I was expecting him to blow up over my confession, not find humor in it.
“You sure know how to sweeten a sour situation,” he said. “Too bad, you’d have made one hell of a lawyer.”
Mom laughed, wiping her eyes. “Wait,” she said suddenly. “There’s one more.” She fished around under the tree and pulled out a small, square box. “It’s for you, Tru.”
Tru blinked. “What?”
She handed it over. He peeled the paper and opened the lid with a click. Inside was a slim, silver cuff—minimalist, elegant. But when he turned it toward the light and read the inscription, he froze.
I dare you to live your truth.
He looked up at me. I shrugged. “Just something a girl gave me once. I’m re-gifting.”
Mom laughed. “Well, that’s very thoughtful.”
But Tru knew. I could see the way his fingers curled around it, the way his thumb traced the engraving like it might fade if he stopped.
A play on our names.
A callback to the game that tore us apart.
A promise that we were rewriting the rules.
I’d sold my law textbooks to afford that bracelet. It was worth every dime.
He slipped it on, hands trembling. “But I didn’t get you anything,” he said, voice breaking.
I leaned in, smiling from the inside out. “Yeah, you did,” I murmured. “And I loved my gift more than anything.”
His whole face broke open into a smile that warmed me from the inside out.
CHAPTER 34
DARE
You think you know someone, but they’re hiding a whole alternate identity like a walking comic-book twist.
I spottedthe first one near the science wing taped to the wall randomly. A comic-book sketch of two guys, back-to-back, all shadow and attitude. One had flames curling off his hands. The other held a cracked shield.
There was no name. Just shades of graphite and a smudge in the corner where someone dragged their hand across it too fast.
I stopped and stared. If not for Tru, I probably never would’ve noticed, but it was good—reallygood.
“You good?” someone muttered behind me, trying to pass.
“Yeah,” I said. I peeled the sketch off the wall, folded it once, and tucked it into my notebook.
At the library, I found Tru tucked into his usual corner. “Look at this,” I said, dropping the sketch on his open notebook.
He raised an eyebrow, then flicked hiseyes down. “Cool.”
“Justcool? Come on, this is sick. Whoever’s doing these? They’re legit.”
Tru shrugged like it was nothing, but I caught the edge of his smirk. The kind of smirk he made when he was hiding something, like when he stole my hoodie and acted as if he didn’t know where it went for three weeks.
